*****

Afterwards, Xander was never quite sure HOW it had happened. Oh, sure, they'd been building up to it for a long time. Devon threw smirks every time he and Spike disappeared for a while, but always seemed to wander into the room they'd escaped to, and never really apologized for interrupting. And Oz, with his strange fascination with Spike's hair, which apparently inspired him to reach out and touch every time he thought he wouldn't get smacked for his pains. Which wasn't often, but still. They'd all watch tv together, Spike bitching about cold blood and Devon shouting at him to shut the fuck up right now, thank you, and Oz curling by Xander because he fit so well into the curve of Xander's arm, and Xander would get a little tingle and wonder if maybe this was the day. But Spike always jumped up off of Devon after wrestling him to the floor, and Oz always went to the fridge to get water or a beer, and it never quite crossed that line. Maybe they were afraid of messing up the strange domesticity of their house. It was really startling, how well they were getting along. Xander worked. Oz and Devon rehearsed and laid around and lived off Oz's trust fund. Spike beat up demons and bickered with Devon and let Xander buy him things. They threw parties. The sex was amazing, if his own experiences and the sounds coming from across the hall were any indication. Even Buffy was relaxing, and went so far as to tease Spike for holding Xander's hand on patrol one night.

So, equilibrium, and a pretty damn happy one. But still, sometimes, when he was watching Oz nibble on Devon's ear in the kitchen, or saw Spike batting irritably at Oz's fingers when they twined in his hair, or noticed Devon strutting out the door on his way to some club, he wondered what it would be like.

He'd asked Spike once, lying sated in the late afternoon, Spike's back long and smooth and cool under his hand. Spike had looked at him like he was insane.

"What's that, pet?"

"Just...what do you think it would be like? I mean, four people...where would everything go?"

Spike's hysterical laughter hadn't helped his confidence any, but after Spike had calmed down and climbed back onto the bed, he'd seemed to consider it seriously.

"All the bits go in normal places, but there's just more of 'em. An' with those two...bet it'd be scorching, yeah? Those two..." Spike had licked his lips, and Xander hadn't been able to resist licking them too, and that had been the last of it for the moment.

So when it finally happened, Xander couldn't say he was surprised, exactly, but he wasn't entirely prepared. And it certainly hadn't seemed like The Time. Just another Saturday afternoon, though the Dingoes were getting ready to go out of town for a three-week tour of dive bars across Southern California, and Xander had had a remarkably good day at work and was feeling mellow, and Spike was being sullen and snarky for no good reason, drinking Jack and grumbling about Passions. Devon was trying to pack, and failing, and Oz was trying to pack, and succeeding well enough for both of them. So when he came over and flopped into Xander's lap in the big easy chair, after the last bag had been stacked by the door, Xander just ruffled his hair and went on reading his Rolling Stone, Oz warm and solid and relaxed against him.

Devon thumped down the stairs and plopped down onto the couch next to Spike, got an "Oi! Mind that, wanker!" and sighed. Loudly. Waited a minute, and did it again.

"What?" Xander finally bit.

"I can't find my green leather pants."

"Green leather? Christ. You're a fuckin' chit, you are."

"They're behind the CD tower, Dev." Oz always knew.

"Shut up, Spike. Go get my pants."

"Not a chance, mate."

"You've been sitting on your ass all day. C'mon. They're right upstairs."

"Sod off. Get 'em yourself."

"Use that famous vampire strength for once, and haul your lazy ass up the stairs. I'm tired, already."

"Devon..." Sometimes Xander felt like a den mother. Spike was in no mood right now, and you'd think Devon would have noticed. He probably had, and just didn't care. "I'll get your stupid pants, if you want." He stood up, ignoring Oz's "nooooooooooo...." as he was dumped onto the vacated chair, and moved towards the stairs.

"See what you've done, now? Xan, don't you dare fetch an' carry for this prima donna-"

"I am NOT a prima donna! I've just been hauling equipment all day and I'm fuckin' TIRED, all right?" Dev kicked Spike, a little harder than just play. Spike growled at him, full fangs. Devon was not impressed.

"Oh yeah, scary, Spike. What are you gonna do. Just because Xander's helpful and you're a lazy piece of shit ULG-" He went down under a very angry vampire, and they both hit the floor rolling.

"Guys..." Xander turned back from the stairs. "Spike, stop..."

"OUCH!" Devon's head smacked into the coffee table, and he rolled and punched, and "FUCK! Not the soddin' FACE, you ass-" and Oz was pulling at Spike and Xander was yanking Devon's arm, and they fell apart, glaring and panting.

"Jesus, you two. Give it a rest, already!" Oz was rarely irritated, but when he was, people tended to take notice. Devon shrugged, and even Spike managed to look faintly apologetic. "What are you, four years old? Apologize. Both of you." Twin mutinous frowns. Oz crossed his arms. Tapped his foot. Stared at them both. Xander almost laughed, but caught himself in time. Devon sighed, and caved.

"I'm sorry I called you a lazy piece of shit and don't think you're scary, Spike." He smirked.

"I'm sorry you're a princess who thinks the whole soddin' world revolves around-HEY!"

This time, Devon got three good hits in before Xander dragged him away by the collar.

"All right, this is too much." Oz was literally sitting on Spike on the floor, and Xander still had Devon by the collar, as a precautionary measure. "I don't know what the deal is, but I'm sick of it. Figure out a way to get along, or...or..." Xander couldn't think of an 'or,' but hoped the threat held. Oz nodded in agreement. "Kiss and make up. Now." He sounded as firm as he knew how, and gave Devon a little shove. "NOW, Dev."

Spike shook Oz off, and stood with his normal grace. He and Devon stared at each other, then the tension broke as Devon grinned.

"Sorry, Spike."

"Right, mate. No harm."

Xander stood firm.

"Shake, you two."

Spike leered. "Thought you said we had to kiss? Where's the fun in shakin' hands?"

Devon laughed, strolled over, and...was grabbed, pale hands in his hair, holding his head hard and still, cool mouth swallowing his gasp. Spike was sucking on his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, no tongue yet but that mouth...

Xander was frozen, standing with Oz, looking...Spike had Devon's head held down to his own, hands cupping his head behind his neck and the curve of his skull, and Xander could see Dev's lashes fluttering against his cheek, hear the little helpless sounds he was making in the back of his throat, could almost FEEL it when Dev jerked as Spike stepped up into him and *pressed.* His hands looked lost, resting first on Spike's chest, then his shoulders, then one on his waist and one in his hair, like Devon couldn't think with that mouth on his, with that tongue that Xander could see, finally finally, slipping between his lips to slide, slick and wet, into his mouth. The air felt heavy. He could hear Oz breathe, once, deep, next to him, before a hand slid across the small of his back and around onto his belly, just lying there flat, not moving but brurning his skin through his t-shirt. Oz had always been warm.

Devon's knees buckled. Xander sympathized. It was like Spike just moved in and took over every nerve ending in your body, sometimes. Devon was breathing, tasting, feeling Spike, and only Spike, and all that intensity could be...intense. Spike was holding him up, now, muscles under the black shirt bunching and sliding and not even straining, and Xander wondered almost idly if this is what the girls felt like. All that strength, so much more than your own...Poor Dev. Hanging in Spike's hands, all languid and beautiful and whimpering now, and his fingers were shaking, and all they were doing was kissing. Long, slow, wet kisses. Kisses with intent.

******

Devon was his but not, and Oz had always known that, and with Xander under his hand and this...amazing thing happening in front of him, he didn't even mind. They were just so fucking beautiful, those two. Devon tall and lean and almost feminine, right now, with his full lips and bedroom eyes and smooth golden skin. Spike hard, pale, all angles and planes and sharp white edges, contrast of blue and black and scar and smooth. He could see Spike's hand, long-fingered but small, effortlessly supporting Dev's weight at the small of his back. Could see Dev tilt his head for a better angle at that red mouth, see them press together and slide, oh so slowly, down to the couch. Just sitting, facing each other, but bodies so close there was no air between them, and Devon's hands were wandering now. He heard him suck in air, a little, as his fingers slid under the hem of the t-shirt and he touched skin. Oz wondered if it was as cool and smooth as it looked, as Spike arched up into the touch and let his eyes fall closed.

Hitch of breath beside him, and he glanced up at Xander, still pressed against his side, his palm. Xan was staring hard, eyes almost black, and Oz let his hand slide down to cup a hipbone. Xander looked away. At him. Stared for a moment, and Oz wondered idly what he saw. Short pale guy with blue hair, probably, but he knew his eyes were very green. And when Xander bent to his mouth, he didn't move away.

*******

Sweet. Cool, sweet. Rasp of tongue, teeth, licking. Hand on cool satin, ahhhh, and a pressure against him where he was hardest, and his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat, and was moaning to get out. Curls. White and smooth, tangling his fingers, and oh, that tongue. Left him, gone from his mouth. Nooo! But a long swipe from his jawbone to that sweet hollow just below his ear and then a low whisper...

"It's been comin', singer, yeah?" Was someone talking to him? He couldn't open his eyes. "Want you, an' we all know it. I'm gonna have you, too. All of you. Gonna make you screammmm...." And that last in a wicked drawl that ran shiver-fingers up and down his spine, and all he could do was tilt his head, surrender.

"Open your eyes, Dev. Devon. Look at them." Spike was talking to him. Spike. He opened his eyes, moved in for another kiss, and had his head held firmly away by a hand in his hair. "Look," Spike whispered, and turned him.

He'd seen Xander and Oz together, yeah, but this seemed different, somehow. It had been a really long time. And they were so intent. Xander looked like he was about to eat Oz alive. He had his mouth all over...lips, throat, collarbone, bending down to suck at the hollow of his throat. That clean line of Oz's spine was clearly visible as he bent back, fingers tangled in dark hair, smiling through half-lidded eyes. Xander's hands were on Oz's hips, holding him still, though it didn't really look like Oz was going anywhere...but this was possessive. He felt Spike growl next to him, and barely had time to grab an arm before the vampire fucked it all up. Spike turned.

"Get 'em both." Devon was surprised his voice still worked. "Bring 'em here." Spike paused, considered, smiled. Touched Oz with a gentle hand, tugging him and by extension, Xander, back towards the couch. He didn't let go when they bumped against Devon's legs, but pulled them down in a slow tumble until Xander was looking up at Devon, and Oz was half in Spike's arms. Devon liked Xander. Big and solid on him, soft soft skin, and he always smelled like raspberries. Kissing Xander now. Mmmm. Warm instead of cool, but still sweet...and hands pulling off his shirt, that was nice. Xander's too? Yeah. Better. He was still feeling that strange passivity, willing to lay back and just let this happen. Strange. Like Spike had flipped a switch in his head. He relaxed down into the couch...Skin on skin, and Xander across his lap, and the boy had the best mouth and THE best shoulders Dev had ever seen. Collarbone. Yeah.

*******

Spike could always sense the wolf in Oz. Could see it every day in the easy stretches when he got up from watching tv, or the tilt of his head when he was listening to something, or the look in his eye as he watched things go on around him. And now, he was musky with the smell of it.

Sure, maybe vampires had a bit of a neck fixation. It was only natural. But Oz really had an exceptional neck, long for a boy and smooth and white, and the slope of it meeting his shoulder was right THERE, as he wriggled around to get a better look at the couch's other two inhabitants. Surely he wouldn't mind...Spike let his open mouth just rest on that spot, felt Oz jump and then melt back against him.

Xander'd always said some stupid thing about Oz tasting like the sun. Much as he hated to admit it, Spike knew what he meant, now, as he let his tongue out to play, dancing on skin almost as pale as his own. Hot, and salty, and just a little wild, but strong and light just the same. Fuck. Bleedin' poetry, makin' an appearance now? This was gonna be the shag of all shags, no flowers and candy, ta SO much. But his mouth was liking Oz's throat rather a lot, especially when his hands got into play, sliding under Oz's shirt and rubbing his flat belly, and down...yeah, and when Oz tilted his head back, and he finally got a taste of that wide mouth...he couldn't believe he was making that fuckin' ridiculous noise, just because a pretty little werewolf was sucking on his tongue and grinding his ass back into his crotch. Sweet GOD...oh, sod it. He growled, and dove in.

******

Oz had always known that Spike would taste like sin.

******

Devon was usually pushy, in a good way of course, but now he looked pliant and dazed. Drugged. Off in some bliss-zone, where kisses just came to him and there was always someone unbuttoning his pants. Xander had fully expected to be stripped by now and flat on his back, but HE was the one on top, with his fingers busy with buttons and his tongue tangling with Devon's. Little pauses for breath, and to hear Devon whisper his name in that porn-voice he used when he was hot, and to look at Oz and Spike, because that was just amazing. Spike's hand was...yeah. And Oz was...yeah. He didn't know what to do first. Strip Devon. Right. His hips did that hot little shimmy thing when Xander tugged at his jeans, and there he was, naked. Naked Devon. Long lines and soft curves, hipbones and smooth skin and his head tipped back and he looked utterly debauched. Just waiting there. Even his feet were pretty. Xander felt overdressed, stood and stripped lightning fast, paused to consider his great and amazing good fortune, and slid back onto Dev, straddling his hips and AHH. Felt a cool hand in his hair, suddenly...Spike was looking at him over Oz's shoulder, even as his other hand kept up a slow stroke and push against the zipper of Oz's jeans.

He smiled. This was ok.

Grin back, and Spike bent again, because Oz was twisting and whimpering and trying to get him back.

********

This was going to be over so so fast if he didn't...yeah, right there, oh Jesus Xander those fingers...and he had to...right, sit up or something, GOD, and mouths weren't supposed to be that hot, were they? And where was Spike, oh FUCK he had his hand in Oz's pants and Oz's hips were doing that roll and slide that they did when he was really really turned on and Devon couldn't quite get his mind around this happening. And Xander, Xander with that fucking talented mouth...on his chest now, and a hand still on his dick with a stroke and pull just SO, and sliding down now oh my GOD tongue in navel! He could feel his hips buck up, desperate for contact, and Xander was on his knees on the floor now and his thighs fell open helplessly and Oz was watching them, eyes hot, and that first long lick from root to tip took him right out of his head again.

********

Dark head resting on a long thigh, pink tongue lapping at a hard satin cock, then lips parting, sliding, surrounding. Oz used to watch them all the time, just because. Oz liked to watch. Thought he'd never get the chance again, and his eyes just locked, and he couldn't look away, even when strong white hands were pulling at his jeans, at his shirt, petting him. Devon was arched right off the couch, eyes closed, hands fisted at his sides, and Oz KNEW that he wanted to grab hair and pull and push, but didn't because that pissed Xander off and sometimes made him stop, and there was no way Dev was going to do anything to jeopardize this blow job. Xander was that good. Lucky, lucky Spike. Who was teasing him now, still behind him, surrounding him with cool and strong and musky want, and watching just like Oz was. And he was so HARD...Oz could feel him in the small of his back, where skin met skin, oh Lord Spike was naked too. Maybe he should do more than watch, right now.

*******

Fuck. Xander was...Spike was growling, and didn't even want to stop. Almost jumped out of his skin when an answering growl rumbled through the body he was holding...oh yeah, pushy little werewolf, are we? Always wondered where the wolf ended and the odd little man started. And...SHIT! Oz whipped around--had he always been that strong? Lucky little bitch, that Willow--and was moving against him, like an animal. Spike was officially distracted. Pushed Oz off, just a bit, so he could get at that smooth neck and nibble a little...yeah, right there...slid hands down sweating-hot skin, felt fingers yanking in his hair, and got a noseful of wolf-smell and lust, and this time when the growl came, he bared his teeth.

*******

Xander glanced up through his eyelashes. Devon squirmed hard, and shifted, and he almost lost his rhythm...almost. Smiled around the hardness in his mouth, curled his tongue around it. Decided that now was a great time to show Dev his new trick. Relaxed his jaw, his throat, DIDN'T think about it, and dove down, hands steady on Devon's thighs, holding him still, holding him down. Felt hair tickle his nose, and his breath hitch and catch and stop, and swallowed. Devon screamed, and came.

Yeah.

******

Oh CHRIST. Fuckin' Xander and that mouth...god that was the best blow job he'd ever gotten...he felt the tension drag out of his back, his legs, looked at the grinning face between his legs, grinned back...and got kicked in the side. What the-

Growling. He'd...holy shit, he'd forgotten Spike and Oz. Hard to believe, but when your brain's getting sucked out your dick...Spike kicked him again. Oh...he had one hand buried between Oz's legs, and one wrapped around his neck, and Devon could feel himself getting hard again...felt Xander's hand still on his leg, felt his nerve endings fire, couldn't look away. They were growling. His Oz? Growling. Fuckin' hot. And Spike flipped them over, one smooth move and Oz was under him, he was settling between thighs, and those white hips flexed and Oz HOWLED. Holy shit. Their legs brushed against him on every stroke, and he could see the muscles in Spike's back clench and slack, clench and slack, long slow rhythmic fuck, and Oz's hands were clawing at him, blue nailpolish shocking against white skin. He looked down again. Xander was still on his knees, staring, catching flies. Couldn't have that. He shoved at him with his foot, and grinned, and Xander's eyes flared hot.

He crawled up, over Devon's legs, into his lap, reached out and draped himself on Spike, mouthed at his shoulder, rode the movement and Devon could see him shiver when Spike moaned.

*******

Stronger than Devon. Stronger than Xander. Stronger than Oz, inexorable sex that was pushing him out of his body with every thrust. Spike was biting his own lip, and Oz couldn't look away, had to lock on to something or get lost. And then...a hot hand, reaching around Spike, brown-black eyes staring over white shoulder, and that hand slid up his cock, fingers circled the tip, and rubbed DOWN, and Oz arched and he could feel his mouth open, silent, and then Devon was kissing him, sweep of slick tongue, fucking his mouth. Every. Stroke. Too much. Too many. Oz bucked, and came, and didn't remember whose name he screamed.

*****

Xander felt Spike shudder, heard that eerily high moan he made when he was coming, and caught him when he fell back, off of Oz, sliding out and away and letting Devon kiss from his place on the floor. Ran his hands down Spike's arms to still the trembling, twined his fingers, nibbled at the back of his neck. Spike was sweet, after sex. Quiet for a little while, and almost tender, and he loved this part. But Spike's legs were tangled with his, and still with Oz's as he lay back, spent, and there was almost no room on this damn couch any more, and the air smelled like sex. Xander was still hard. VERY hard. This seemed unfair, really. Everyone ELSE had gotten off. It was like some extremely hot buffet...his choice of partner. Sexy vampire? Sexy werewolf? Sexy singer? Xander snickered, almost shocking in the silence.

"What, pet?"

"Oh, just thinking. Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Are they going to keep making out forever?"

"Dunno. Can think of worse things."

"Well, yeah. You just, and I quote, got your end away."

"Yeah?"

He rubbed a little against the cool body in his arms.

"Spiiiiiiike..."

"Don't whine, luv. S'not becoming."

"Come on...it's not fair!"

"Should've got off when you had the chance."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a bastard. And you're hard again too."

"What to do, what to do..."

"Oh, knock it off. Who do you want?"

"You." With no hesitation, promptly. Xander loved Spike.

"Aw. You get me all the time, though. Look at Devon. Isn't he pretty?"

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"Yeah, right. Go fuck him, or you two are going to kill each other one of these days."

"Will not!" But the tension was back, and Spike was looking.

"Go on. Before he sucks Oz's brains out that way. Jesus."

"Almost hate to interrupt 'em..." Spike was off the couch a heatbeat later, knocking Devon away from Oz and flat onto the floor, and WHOA. Looked like Oz wasn't the only one in danger of losing his brain.

******

What the-

On the FLOOR?

Oh, HELLS yes. Spike's tongue in his mouth again, and there was a faint tang of Oz there, but mostly just Spike. Devon melted. Just opened himself right up. Maybe it was a weird vampire mind trick. Devon couldn't feel his bones, but his hands seemed to have a pretty decent idea what to do, and were restless on Spike's back. He felt long legs pressing against his own, hands pulling at his arms, pushing them flat, drawing them up above his head. Spike's fingers, still slick from Oz, in among his own. He had a Spike-blanket, head to toe. Well, almost. Cool. And...AH...hot. Especially when he moved just. like. THAT.

Black lashes were almost hiding those damn blue eyes, and he couldn't stop staring. Spike was doing that intense thing again. Not QUITE angry. He bucked his hips, not really fighting, just testing, locked eyes, smirked. I'm bigger than you. He tensed and rolled, and now Spike had a Devon-blanket. He bared his teeth, bit Spike's lip, heard the yelp, and then it all went to hell.

******

"Do you think they'll hurt each other?" Faint trace of worry, from where Xander had slid up to lie behind Oz, touching him all up and down his body. He was still hard, but too distracted to do much about it.

"Nah. Spike likes him." Oz sounded calm enough for both of them.

"I know he does. You know he does. But does DEV know he does?"

"Huh. Dunno." They were watching. Comfortable. He had his arm around Oz, lovely soft skin under his hands, and he could feel it every time Oz took a breath. Lovely Oz. Maybe...if he moved just a little...Xander cupped a thigh and lifted, let his cock slide in between Oz's legs, moaned, felt Oz give a full-body shiver. Oh yeah. Hopefully, Dev and Spike wouldn't break any of the furniture.

******

Fuckin', soddin', bleedin' CHIP. He was having to be SO careful here, and the little...GodDAMN it! Un-fuckin'-FAIR, is what it was! And the stupid singer wouldn't hold still an' take it like a man, oh no, he had to go about provin' his manhood or some such rot. Slippery as a snake, he was.

Spike finally got him flipped and pinned--years of bein' the Big Bad had to have SOME worth, yeah?--and panting into the rug.

"Hold. Soddin'. STILL." Spike snarled through bleeding lips, spat into one hand, the other holding Devon's wrists above his head. Reached down, and...RIGHT there. Hot as sin, and tight as a virgin, and Devon pushed back onto his finger, whimpering, all the fight gone out of him. This was gonna be a proper shag an' no mistake.

Two fingers now, and Dev was up on his knees, head still against the carpet, braced on his forearms. All that lovely skin...Spike couldn't help it, had to have a taste, licked at the sweat that was running down the channel of that long curve of spine. Dev gasped, and rolled his hips, a lovely liquid thing that would have the groupies swooning if he did it on stage. Two fingers deep and crooked, and Devon sucked in air again, and made fists of his hands.

"Devon...pet...easy..." Spike slicked himself. Couldn't wait another second. Spread Devon's thighs with his own, settled in, and pushed. SO tight. God. In just a bit, hearing the whine of a little pain in the quick breathing, and out, and in again, a little further...aiming for the sweet spot. The tiny part of his brain still functioning reminded him to take it slow. He slid his hands down sweaty sides, down to sharp hipbones, rubbed slow circles there with his thumbs. Waited for Devon to unfreeze, muscle by muscle, and push back, again. Started breathing himself when it happened, because FUCK. And then he was in to the hilt, and burning.

******

Too much. There was NO WAY that was getting in him...how the FUCK did Xander do this? OUCH. And...WOW. Little sparks from that good place, he remembered this from the fingers, this was good. He could smell the shampoo on the newly-clean carpet, felt himself sweating, felt cool hands on his hips, felt...FULL. Spike moved. WOW again. He was moving too, couldn't help it, wanted more, moremoremore, faster, please, Spike. Did he say that out loud? Couldn't hear, through the pounding of blood in his ears and the sound of the breath in his throat, but Spike maybe heard him, because he speeded up. Every thrust into him lifted him up, onto his arms, hit him right where he needed it, HAD to have it, because this was making his brain melt, making his fingers tingle, he could feel the burn in the base of his spine and the tension in the back of his legs, and he didn't want to come, didn't want it to be over, but that hand slid off his hip and onto his cock. Sure strokes, in time with the fucking, and oh JESUS his blood was on fire, his whole BODY was on fire, every nerve ending jumping, and his eyes were clenched shut and he could see colors. Hot silver slide through his thighs, his back, down his spine, and he was coming, coming, and Spike was right, he was screaming.

Spike was still moving, still pushing into him, still had a hand on his cock, and it was almost too much, overload. He was thrashing now, totally out of control, and it was so intense it HURT, and there was a mouth on him, teeth nipping at his shoulder, and Spike stiffened behind him, grabbed his hips hard, and sighed his name. Fell down onto him, heavier than he looked, and Devon just rested.

*****

"I think they passed out."

"Yeah. Maybe. Don't stop."

Xander nodded, slid into Oz, slow and comfortable, like coming home. Oh god, he'd almost forgotten how amazing this was. Welcoming heat holding him, pulling him in. Hot skin against his own, sliding with sweat, in a familiar rhythm, calm green eyes with little sun-crinkles at the corners, smiling at him, closing in a long blink when he speeded up, just a bit. Oz. He kissed him, fisted his dick, stroked him and petted him. Oz.

******

Xander wasn't as strong and sleek as Devon or as hard and feral as Spike, but he fucked with a sweetness that they didn't have. Oz had missed this. He reached up, tangled his fingers in dark curls, wrapped his legs around Xander's waist, and sighed. Sweet. The buildup was slower this time. Slow uncurl of warmth in his belly, little kisses on his face, his neck, his chest. Lap of tongue on his nipples, sending hot shivers through him. Xander inside him, doing lovely things to his prostate, glide out and a harder push in, screwing his hips a little. And a hand on him, stroking him just how he liked, and Oz made a small surprised sound when he came, and Xander laughed as he came right behind him.

*****

"Singer?" Raspy whisper in his ear.

"Whu?" He could barely move his lips.

"You alive?"

"Yeh. Mbey."

"Right." Spike didn't move.

"Spike?"

"Shuddup."

"Kay."

*****

And it wasn't awkward at all, when they finally all untangled, just to collapse again in a pile on the couch. Xander couldn't tell whose hip his head was on, but he thought that was Spike's cool leg between his thighs. Someone was petting his hair. Nice. For about five minutes. And then there was a push, and a shove back.

"Spike..." He put his best warning tone on. Didn't want to open his eyes.

"Wasn't me, pet. This lanky arsehole HAD to stretch his legs out..."

"I did NOT! He's tiny! He could move over just a LITTLE."

"'M not tiny. OZ is tiny."

Xander felt a sigh. Probably Oz.

"You're almost as tiny as he is. Hey, if you went upstairs and got my pants, we wouldn't HAVE this problem."

"Oh are you on about THAT again? Fuck, not a moment's peace-"

Xander sighed. Burrowed into what he thought was probably Oz. And smiled.

[THE END]